Ruffled Robin
by Muddell
Summary: A collection of occasions where different team members acted like Robin's siblings, whether he realizes it or not. Lots of bonding, a wide variety of moments. And you can be certain there's gonna be some protective teammates here. Also, Roy included, 'cause he's awesome.
1. Nachos and Naptime

**AN: Heeeey. So, I doubt a lot of you people who've chosen to read this care...but if you're following along with my other Young Justice story, don't worry. I've got the next chapter of that in the works. I've just hit a bit of a slow point...so I'm distracting myself with this. **

**Anyway, this is pretty much just a collection of different moments when Dick found siblings with the team, whether he realized it or not. I'm probably gonna have a bit of Roy in this too...I really adore the bromance between him, Dick, and Wally.**

**Also, for this chapter just so everyone knows, this isn't shipping Dick and Artemis. I totally see them as more of an annoying little brother and irritated but protective big sister combo. I mean, I guess you can read what you want...but just keep in mind romance wasn't what I was trying to portray here. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

**Artemis POV**

Robin is a monster.

Artemis has seen him in action, sweeping through combatants with feral grace, slipping through niches wrapped in superficial shadows, devastating altercations with his mental ability.

But with the way her gaze is fixated on him now, she can't help but think it.

This kid is absolutely adorable.

The way his face softens as he slumbers, relaxing in a way it never does when he's causing mayhem with Wally or irritating the other team members. How his limbs curl up, squished against himself and the couch. Even his breathing, soft puffs that ruffle the lint clinging to the cushion his face is pressed against.

It all awakens some sort of feeling deep inside of her, something that normally only tentatively rears its head when puppies tottle by. Innocent, small, and fragile.

_Oh. My. God. _

She's comparing Robin, Batman's protegee, the Boy Wonder, to puppies. _Puppies. _

Jade would never let her live it down if she knew.

Still, Artemis resists the urge to reach out, to fix the way his cape is slung so haphazardly over his shoulder, draping itself sloppily over his limp form.

Instead, she kneels down next to him. Moving almost without thinking, her back brushing against the edge of the glass table top and her knees protesting as they bear her weight against the smooth stone flooring.

She bites her lip, staring down at the youngest member of the team in contemplation. Despite how easily Robin seems to be sleeping, Artemis can't help but think that he can't be comfortable. Still dressed in his uniform from when he stumbled into the cave earlier tonight. lying in such a cramped position. That insufferable mask still in place, cutting against his skin.

It bothers her.

"Hey," she mutters softly. Wincing at the way her words cut through the silence, she tries again. "C'mon, wake up time."

His nose twitches, and she fights a smirk as messy dark tufts of hair slip down to lay against his domino mask. Robin sniffs, and without thinking she reaches forward, brushing back the hair and stroking the skin of his forehead gently.

Artemis freezes.

It suddenly occurs to her that this boy isn't any other random kid she found passed out on a park bench, dirty, painfully frail, and sniffling in Gotham's night. This is Robin. Her teammate. The boy who's been working under Batman for years. He should be up, easily reacting to his surroundings. He should be alert at the slightest suspicious noise and ready to fend off an unknown attack. He should be fighting her off easily.

But he's not.

He's just a_sleep_.

"Robin. Seriously Boy Wonder, it's time to get up," Artemis insisted, reaching forward and grasping a bony shoulder with finality, forcefully squashing down the sweet tingling in her middle that ignites when Robin's arm draws deeper against his chest.

"...'Mis?"

It's impossible to tell with his mask, but she imagines his eyes remain closed.

She batted away the absurd urge to giggle, the corner of her lips tilting into a smirk instead.

"Yeah, it's me. C'mon, go sleep in your room."

"Nooooo."

"Yeeeees," she teases, reaching out and ripping his cape back and flicking him on the collarbone expertly. She's had practice waking Wally up from his naps more times than she can count. "You're going to cramp up if you stay like that."

In response, he lets out a pitiful groan and lethargically turns over, burrowing his face into the crease where the seat and back cushions meet, jerking his legs up to squeeze between his chest and a pillow.

It's deliberate.

Artemis sighed. She tried it the nice way, but with M'Gann off gallivanting through the mall with a reluctant Superboy, Robin's best shot at getting a sweet and gushy wake up is gone.

Time for the Artemis method.

Fast, before Robin's grumblings can deter her, she reaches out to burrow an arm underneath him, wiggling her hand against his shoulder blades to sneak far enough for her fingers to curl around his upper arm and brush against the back of the couch.

"Up we go," she mutters, heaving her arm to prop the teenager up against herself. His head lolls against her shoulder and he mumbles incoherently.

"Robin. C'mon." Artemis jostled him, his skull hitting her shoulder somewhat alarmingly. She shoves him back and forth again.

He nestles the crown of his head between her neck and collarbone, his hair scratching against her skin and leaving it uncomfortably bothered. Warm breath spills out from his parted lips and tickles her neck.

This new development slows her down. She'd planned on throwing him around a bit, get his instincts to kick in and leave him alert enough to stagger off to his bedroom for a more fitful rest. If it was Wally he'd already be complaining and rolling around on the floor with her hovering mockingly from above. But for some reason dropping Robin seemed...wrong. Like kicking a stray puppy.

She has to stop comparing the kid to animals.

Besides a bird, that's definitely fair game.

"...'Mis?"

Even putting aside the guilt that rises up when she considers abandoning him to the ground, something scratches persistently at her thoughts.

When she calls the image of Robin to her mind, she thinks about the lithe but capable body he works so continuously in order to protect innocents. She thinks about the way he cackles and smirks, mannerisms infused with palpable confidence. She thinks about the seemingly unlimited amount of tricks and gadgets he has stuffed into his mind and utility belt. And yes, it crosses her mind how vertically challenged he is, because how could it not?

But she doesn't think about the boy who's limbs are slowly turning and fidgeting, linking around herself and snuggling closer. She doesn't think about the person he is under the mask.

And she knows, that's who this is. Despite the fabric still faithfully creasing over his face, he isn't Robin anymore. He's just a kid. A tired, worn out, almost pitiful boy.

It's terrifying.

How the hero being groomed to lead their team appears so soft. So...

_Vulnerable. _

"...Mis?"

She shakes her head, brushing her hair against him in the process. Now isn't the time to start thinking about things she can't change. It's time for her to figure out whatever is making Robin so different.

_So vulnerable._

"Yeah, it's still me. You ready to wake up now?"

His breathing deepens.

"I'll take that as a no," she decides, sighing. "Fine. Just this time kid."

She works the arm not balancing his upper weight under Robin's legs, at the crease behind his knees.

A fist swats at her back weakly, followed by a delirious denial. "No' a...no' a kid..."

"Sure, kid." But his fight is apparently gone. Leached out along with his awareness. She heaves him back so he's sprawled across her lap and forces her leg out from under them, using it to force her to her feat. The extra deadweight lax in her grip. He doesn't seem bothered with the fact that she's now carrying him bridal style.

Artemis sighs again, absentmindedly noting she's been doing that a lot, and begins lugging Robin towards the bedrooms.

It's a lot easier then she expected. Robin might be strong, but he's skinny too, and Artemis's body is conditioned and tried. Supporting the kid down the hall doesn't even break a sweat. It's almost worrying, how light he is to burden away.

She slows to a stop in front of Robin's door, hit suddenly with a glaring flaw in her thinking.

This is _Robin_'s room.

Even if she knew the code to gain entrance, if she opens that door she's risking everything from death to an actual robin getting chucked at her face.

She still remembers the scratches Aqualad sported, sprawled across his jaw and cheekbones.

So she turns around, heading down the hall towards her own room. It's not like she stays here overnight often anyway, her sheets are still practically as clean as they would be coming strait out of the dryer.

Artemis can dump Robin, then go call someone. Try and figure out if there's some exterior variable keeping Robin so drowsy. Either way, she definitely plans on using this for teasing material later. With how much blackmail she's sure the little twerp has on her and everyone else it would be nice to have _something _to counterattack with.

It's not until they're hovering outside her room that Robin moves again. As she struggles to press the correct buttons on her keypad while dealing with the teen in her arms, he shifts. Curling into himself again with his head leaning against her chest.

She's starting to have a good idea of what position he must sleep in every night.

"Comfortable?" She mutters sarcastically, not expecting a response. He surprises her by humming, sending vibrations outward from himself and shivering against her.

She guides the door open with her foot, turns sideways, and edges inside. His elbow knocks against the door frame.

Artemis ignores this, making her way over to the bed and attempting to dump Robin onto the magenta cover. The one M'Gann was so excited to help her pick out. However, Robin doesn't seem to agree with her plan.

Instead of retracting from her grasp, his arms snake their way around her torso and hold on tightly, his cheek squished against her ribs as he wines in protest. He doesn't even look conscious.

Artemis frowns. This really isn't like Robin at all.

"Robin. C'mon, you're kind of..."

_Worrying me. _

"...out of it."

She uses two hands to wrench his arm away from her, holding it at bay like a tentacle as she struggles with the second. "Seriously, Robin."

His other arm comes off with his fingers clinging desperately to her shirt, dragged back by her unforgiving grip. She lets go, and he tumbles down into the bed, wiggling momentarily before his face finds solace in the pillow. She smirks on reflex.

Artemis reaches forward and grabs the top of his cape, tugging it out from where it was tangled around him. She unclasps it and folds it up, placing the fabric on a chair beside her bed. The teen shivers, and she pulls the comforter underneath him, pausing to yank off his boots, socks, and gloves, before covering him up. She has no idea how to remove his belt, and doesn't feel like playing around with it and possibly losing her fingers. She just wiggles it so the compartments aren't digging into his back.

And then she eyes his mask.

Artemis takes a second to consider it. His eyes are closed underneath, and all she would see is a bit of skin. Presumably. With a sudden measure of both curiosity and hesitation she considers the fact he might be hiding a scar, or a birthmark. Maybe a mole. Her fingers are hovering tentatively over his face, before she remembers a key motivator to draw back.

This is Batman's kid.

Nothing, even the identity of Boy Wonder, is worth getting on the Bat's bad side.

She leaves the mask on and is about to turn-no reason to stay-before Robin mumbles something into her pillow.

"What?"

"...whe'...where 'ou goin'?"

"To get on with my life."

"No' fu'y."

"Just go to sleep, kid."

"...kid," Robin grumbled.

Before she can stop herself, her hand is brushing back his hair again, passing over his wrinkled forehead and smoothing it over. He sighs contentedly, and this time Artemis is sure he's drifting off with finality.

Adorable.

* * *

**Still Artemis POV**

Her hand hovers uncertainly, poised over the keyboard.

This decision could make or break her.

Not for the first time since she had put Robin to bed, she can't help but wish someone was in the cave beside the two of them.

With Red Tornado away on league business she doesn't have a current den-mother to turn to for help. And Black Canary off helping Green Arrow in Star City leaves her with no adults to talk to in person.

M'Gann and Superboy are still away at the mall. She's sure they'll be back soon, despite how easily Miss M managed to convince Superboy to go with her, Artemis knows that the girl is too nice to keep him away too long.

Aqualad is visiting Atlantis for the day, catching up with his mentor and friends for the first time in what Artemis knows is too long. Still, she can't help but wish he had waited for tomorrow to head off. Or chose not to go at all. It would make everything much simpler to have her steady team leader handy to shove the reins onto.

Even Kid Mouth is gone. Running around with the slightly less idiotic speedster in Central, fighting petty crime and searching for some awry rogues. Despite how much the guy gets on her nerves, Artemis can't help but wish that he was at her side at the moment. Wally's always been Robin's best friend, it's no secret. He would definitely be able to press the button she's been hesitating in front of for the last few minutes.

She wishes any of them were here.

Hell, she'd take Harper. He has a soft spot for Robin, if the kid was in trouble he'd be able to easily call-

And she's back. Back to the problem at hand.

Batman.

Artemis knows Batman would be the best source of information if something is wrong with Robin. They were on patrol together before Robin zeta'd over and collapsed on the couch. If he was hit by anything meta related, drugged, or had anything else happen while he was out, Batman would know.

She tries to refrain from thinking about why Batman had allowed him to return to the cave if something was wrong.

It doesn't matter. She's just overthinking it.

Artemis clenches her fist. She grew up in Gotham, facing the worst of the worst on the streets each day just on the way to school or out for groceries. She was raised by a criminal. Had survived abandonment by a practically heartless older sister. She is a capable, strong, young woman who fights crime as a superhero.

She'll be damned if she can't call a guy and check up on her friend's condition.

Even if it is Batman.

Her hand comes down, smashing onto the controls with enough force to rattle the whole table they sit on.

The screen above her flashes and flickers to life.

In a second she's staring into a scowling face half covered with a black cowl. Batman, sitting ramrod strait with his hands clasped firmly together.

She can feel the glare through the screen.

"Artemis." Nothing in his tone gives away any sign of confusion, or anger, or any other emotion for that matter. He's clinical, precise, dangerous.

"Yes...sir," she isn't entirely sure what the protocol for an unscheduled call with Batman is. Batman doesn't say anything, and Artemis knows he's waiting for her. "Um, it's about Robin."

Instantly, his demeanor changes. He's good at suppressing his emotions. To be expected from Batman. But all the years Artemis observed interactions and learned human tells had trained her to look underneath a forced mask.

She can see the way his jaw tightens, how the hands he had clasped together merged closer under thick, dark gloves.

Artemis absentmindedly notes if there was ever anything to crack Batman's stone facade, it's his bird.

"He's...asleep."

God, Artemis feels like an idiot.

Here she is calling Batman, the Dark Knight, protector of Gotham, and bane of criminals all over about his protégée...sleeping.

Suddenly she can't help but defend herself.

"I-I know it's not really an emergency, and we're only supposed to call if there's a dire situation, but it's not like Robin at all. And he's not waking up...I tried to talk to him but he's pretty out of it and I just wanted to know if there was something up with him from patrol, or anything else." She took a breath, wringing her hands behind her back.

_This is ridiculous! Pull yourself together Artemis. You were raised by Spor-you were raised by him! You should be able to handle a conversation!_

Batman stares across the screen for a moment, and she's almost expecting him to hang up and refuse to answer.

"You don't have to worry."

She resists the urge to interrupt, because come on, this is Batman. Even if she definitely isn't worried. Not at the slightest.

"Robin was injected by an experimental drug that induces persistent exhaustion and corresponding symptoms. The effects should wear off within the following twenty-four hours. Until that point he is in no immediate danger."

"Oh. Yeah, okay then. Thank you."

They both stand silent for a moment before something monumental occurs.

Batman hesitates.

"Artemis, keep an eye on him. He's stubborn, and there's no reason to suspect anything is seriously wrong, but the drug is recent. In the possibility something does go unexpectedly...be ready."

So much for not worrying.

"You've got it. I'll keep watch."

He nods once, and the call shuts off, leaving her staring upward.

Next time she's leaving the kid on the couch.

* * *

**Yeah...still Artemis POV**

Artemis refrains from returning to her bedroom long enough for her nachos to finish heating.

She pulls them out of the oven, hand protected by an oven mitt previously singed by M'Gann's cooking. Two baking sheets with a layer of tortilla chips, shredded cheese, black beans, chopped tomatoes, pieces of leftover chicken, and avocado bites.

No olives.

Jade loved olives. Artemis avoids them like the plague.

She shovels a portion of the dish onto a plate, and with the cheese still sizzling and popping in places, bites into a chip.

The food is hot, uncomfortably hot, and the temperature nearly masks the variance in taste.

It's delicious.

She leaves the oven off with the door cracked to let the warmth waft through the kitchen, spreading the intoxicating aroma. It's unlike the sharp tang that permeates the air when M'Gann experiments with her cookies, and the difference is both appealing and strange.

Artemis picks up her plate, munching a second chip as she heads over to the couch to engage in some channel surfing. Robin's tinkered with the television enough to give them as many channels as they want, even if he did lock away a few streaming apps in a fight with Wally. She decides to force their youngest teammate to fix his work when he wakes up.

_If he wakes up. _

She's being ridiculous. It's not like he's in a coma or something. He's just sleeping off a dose, no different then if someone downed one too many on a night out.

But it is different, because Robin was on a patrol when he was drugged, because it was probably a villain who injected him, one of Gotham's villains.

The same crowd that's famous for Joker's laughing gas and Scarecrow's fear toxin.

The thought sends a panicking jolt through her. You don't live in Gotham as many years as she had without being weary of those two, even if you are pretty much a superhero yourself. And it doesn't help that she can't help but think it, can't help but consider-

_It could've been one of them. Could've been the clown who slipped him something more sinister then it appeared. Could've been someone else too. Two-Face. Riddler. Bane. Penguin. Mad Hatter. _

The last one spurs an unplanned shudder. With her blond hair and his fascination with 'Alice' she's always watched out walking down the streets when he's released from Arkham.

Artemis forces herself to calm down. Her thoughts are going in negative circles. It might not have been a big bad at all-some random street thug could've been cornered and got Robin on a lucky shot with any nearby syringe.

She doesn't need to worry.

Her nachos grow cold as she marches down the hall towards her room.

_Batman told me to check on him_. _I'm just following orders. Nothing more. _

The door opens, louder than she meant. It doesn't matter, Robin's dead to the world.

Still, she draws closer. Not sure why, but knowing she needs to.

_Just a second. I'll stay with him for a moment, then head back._

Artemis walks around the edge of bed, so she's standing over the side opposite of where she dumped Robin. He's facing toward her now, the part of his face she can see under his mask is serene, unbothered. He's latched onto her pillow.

"Still okay, Robin?"

His breathing falters and he shifts, thoroughly asleep.

"Who would have thought? All this time, we just had to drug you to shut you down."

Nothing.

"Still, I bet you'll be up and flipping in no time at all."

Artemis eyes the second pillow and the way the top of the cover is pulled down evenly all the way across the span of the bed. Level to where it bunches under Robin's rib cage.

Her nachos are waiting.

But her limbs are starting to feel heavy.

She left the TV on.

And her eyelids are blinking lethargically.

Artemis might need to answer an emergency call for the league. You never know.

The pillow seems to rise up to meet her head.

* * *

**Okay, switch time. Dick's POV, well, more like Robin's POV**

Something's _different_.

His eyes refuse to open, weighed down with heaviness, and his limbs don't cooperate when he tries to move them to his face. To check if he's wearing his mask or not.

He recognizes the symptoms of sleep...but this is _different._

Robin's used to mornings with noticeable sleep deprivation symptoms-it's a common affliction for anyone who leads a double life like himself. But this isn't pure grogginess.

He's pretty sure it's drugs.

Robin knows he should wake up, because if he was knocked out he's probably tied up somewhere, about to get woken up by a merciless crowbar, or baseball bat.

But he can't bring himself to do it. To get up, move around, and fight back.

Instead he manages to open his eyes (which itch painfully) enough to peer out of his domino mask. There's something...pink in front of his eyes. Something that he's laying on. Pink, fluffy, and comfortable.

He decides the color doesn't bother him.

Robin struggles through the lack of his body's response as he attempts to turn his head. He can feel his side pressed against a malleable, warm, and appealing surface.

His body tells him to rest against it, but his mind is screaming with Batman's instructions. What he would do in this situation.

He compromises, forcing himself back, inch by unbearable inch, before realizing what he's laying against.

And he nearly chokes.

It's Artemis, dressed in her comfortable civvies, light green pullover and dark grey sleep shorts. Her hair's let down from her usual ponytail, sprawled over her bed (because he realizes that's obviously what they're on) in disarray.

She isn't scowling.

Easy proof she's sleeping.

That, and the fact that her eyes are closed and her breathing even.

Robin strongly considers moving away...he doesn't know how they got into this position, her arms wrapped protectively around him and his face snuggled into her stomach. But she's so _warm_. And his body is lax...his thoughts running around inside of him, unattainable...

He settles back into his spot, slipping back into unconsciousness with ease.

* * *

**Okay people, time for Wally's POV**

He's feeling stuff.

Bliss. Confusion. Mostly just bliss. And there's that slight ominous thought prickling in the back of his mind. The question of who made his snack, and the worry about how mad they're going to be.

Whatever. Those nachos were to die for.

He kinda wishes they had more toppings though. Lots more toppings. Like...olives.

They might've lasted longer.

Mouth still watering with the taste of nachos, unfortunately room temperature, Wally speeds over to the couch. He's tired, legs aching with an undertone of fatigue after his day out with Flash in the city, and he fumbles his stop. He ends up pinwheeling his arms as his momentum throws him onto the couch unapologetically.

Rude.

He ignores that fact there's no one to be mad at besides himself, and instead preys on an abandoned plate, filled up with more artfully garnished tortilla chips. Another score.

Hunger fed and satisfied, Wally nearly settles further into the couch, content with browsing through a few channels. Check if Rob undid the blocks on his favorite apps.

Which his best friend put on in the first place, because he's a total jerk.

Worst comes to worst and he can just call Roy, have him exercise his older person authority or whatever, get their bird to fix everything. But, Wally reminds himself, that method comes with the risk of Roy's teasing and Dick's knowing smirk.

Wally frowns.

_Where is Robin? Hadn't he agreed to meet up today after their patrols?_

He had probably just forgotten. Or Bats gave him some work to do, an assignment to find a lowlife who was flying under the radar.

_It's fine, Wally sees Robin all the time._

Still, now that Wally noticed he was gone, he's realizing he hadn't seen any sign of anyone else either. Unless the zeta tube had malfunctioned and refused to announce his name, he's pretty sure _someone _should have come out to greet him. M'Gann at least, happily presenting a batch of burnt cave-made cookies.

Curious, he stands up, legs twinging lightly in slight pain with every step he takes down the hall. Wally comes to a stop outside of Rob's room. He considers opening it, he knows the code. Roy had forced Robin to give it to both of them in the case of an emergency, but Wally doesn't know what type of booby-traps Rob might've put in place. Non debilitating (for them, he had a scanner installed), of course. They need to be able to help him if the situation warrants it.

But Wally does _not _want to end up covered in glue and feathers.

So he knocks lightly on the door, checking to see if the teen was up and doing work on his wrist computer or something. After a moment of no one answering, he walks away, somewhat dejected.

He begins to head over to his room, preparing to fool around for a few hours before heading home for bed, before realizing one of the doors in the hall is open.

Artemis's.

Wally stops. It's normal to see M'Gann's door open, she doesn't particularly care if anyone comes and goes. But Artemis is a private person in general. In fact, Wally has never even seen inside of her room.

It wouldn't hurt to check it out.

For scientific purposes, of course.

He creeps over, a feeling inside keeping him from making noise.

Peeking around the wall cautiously, keeping in mind a certain irate blond archer wouldn't be opposed to pelting his hide with arrows if he got caught, he glanced around at the room before his attention was immediately drawn to the bed.

_No way_.

His best friend is literally curled up in the arms of their resident archer. Head tucked away against her chest, arms wrapped around her waist comfortably, and bare feet curled under his thighs.

It's...

_Crazy. _

Unexpected.

And Artemis's position is no less surprising. Instead of pushing the younger boy away, she's actually wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a closer embrace, her chin resting against his skull.

They're c_uddling_.

Wally stands still for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, before speeding away silently and returning with his phone.

He snaps the photos he needs quickly.

Now Rob has to fix the TV.

He's about to leave-because what _else _is he supposed to do-before someone groans.

Artemis awakens.

He prepares for her rage as her eyelids flutter, gulping when dark gray eyes glare at him on instinct.

"I, uh, hope I'm not interrupting anything here," he teases.

Artemis scowls.

"Shh!"

Wally notes absentmindedly how well this girl can hiss. If he ever needs anyone to impersonate a cat (again) he's coming to her, because Roy was absolutely no help at all when he tried.

He creeps closer to the bed, trying to puzzle out how Artemis managed to get Dick to actually fall asleep with her around. Or how Dick managed to get Artemis to cuddle. Both are marvelous feats.

Wally hesitates before asking, "What happened?"

Artemis stares at him for a moment, gaze hard, before glancing down at Dick-Robin to her-and answering reluctantly.

"Batman-"

"You talked to Batman?"

"..."

"Right, sorry, go ahead."

"Batman said that he got injected with some drug. Something experimental. He'll be fine at some point within the next twenty-four hours, but until that he's pretty much out of it."

"And he's sleeping with you...why?"

"..."

"..."

"...he's a cuddler."

Yeah, she doesn't have to tell Wally that. He's lost track of how many times Dick has fallen asleep attached to him or Roy while they were watching a movie. Still, Wally can't help but feel somewhat-

_Jealous._

-offended. Him and Roy spent years befriending Dick until he eventually trusted them enough to pass out-

_Let himself be __vulnerable. _

-next to them. Dick barely knows Artemis, and here he is hanging onto her like a monkey.

"And you're going along with it," Wally states, the start of a teasing smirk spreading across his face.

Artemis's face pinkens. "You try getting him off...he's like an octopus."

"Yeah, I know."

She almost looked surprised at that.

"So...what. You're just going to hang out there for a while?"

"...I can take him," Wally offers, reaching out to relieve her of the younger teen.

He wasn't prepared for the way she draws him closer, glaring up at him like a mama bear protecting her cub. Wally freezes, mind considering a stocked quiver.

"Don't, he's comfortable."

"...Kay."

They fade into silence, Wally glancing around, noticing a bundle of Rob's stuff piled on a bedside chair. His belt isn't there. Not surprising, even Wally doesn't know how to remove it. Much less Artemis.

His thoughts turn to the look in her eyes when he attempted to collect Dick. There had been emotion, turbulent and powerful, brewing like a tsunami in the depths of her pupils. But there was something else there, when she glanced at Rob. A deep sense of-

_Love._

-affection for him.

Wally knows, right then and there. Roy and Wally might be the best big brothers Robin could ever need, but Artemis was his sister.

"He's pretty cute when he's asleep."

Wally almost starts, before realizing it was himself who had spoken.

"Yeah, he's adorable."

Artemis's eyes widen in shock. Clearly she hadn't meant to say anything aloud either.

They both gaze down at Robin for a moment, before meeting each other's gazes.

"We never speak of this again."

"Agreed. Don't run your lips Kid Mouth."

"Same to you, Artie."

* * *

**AN: Idk, I considered writing more, but I kinda felt like this fic was rambling for a while now. So, imma stop this chap here. T****hanks for reading all the way through (I assume you did, as you're at the bottom of this page). **

**Anyway, I've got some ideas for future chapters...so let me know if you guys are interested in more! Also, I love to hear from readers. So if you've got an opinion about this fic please leave a review. Even if it's just like, 'liked it!' or 'I wish you did _'. And, I'm open to _constructive_ criticism. But like, flames are kinda annoying.**

**Kay! Thank you for reading! Toodles!**

**EDIT 3/7/2020: So, I kinda looked back at this to find what I wrote at one point...just to notice an area with what might be the most horrible grammar ever. Not even joking. So that kinda prompted a bit of an editing frenzy real quick...which resulting in what was essentially a swarm of small revisions. Of course, my grammar's still atrocious at times 'cause I'm horrible at it, despite the effort I've just put in. **

**Anyway, when I re-update this chapter or whatever, I don't know if it sends out a notification or something? I don't actually know what will happen. at all. Which is why I'm writing this little thing as an apology? IDK. We'll see. Sorry? **


	2. Restrained Robin: Part 1

**AN: So...I was gonna continue where I ended last time...but I don't know. If felt kinda finished? And it was hard to keep writing it? So I cooked up this trash instead. Sorry guys. **

**Also, warning, I like, literally just forgot what the communication devices they use are called? Coms? Communicators? Walkie Talkie's on steroids? I don't know, so imma just call them whichever. I have faith you guys are smart enough to realize what my dumb self means to convey and stuff.**

**And one more thing...I'm not sure but I'm kinda thinking Roy probably had an apartment in Star(ling?) city? (Does he?) And like, he...maybe has a car? Well, I'm giving him a car. Idk. Y'all should know it's been a long time since I've watched Young Justice...I haven't watched all the available seasons...and I'm an idiot. So if you can bear with me and take the misinformation I'll probably write with a grain of salt that would be great? Thanks for the patience? Imma start now?**

* * *

**Roy's POV**

Roy blinked sluggishly, sleep clinging to him like a cloud of wispy cobwebs. He turned over, nestling his face deeper into his pillow, biting back a groan when incessant ringing shattered the gentle hum of the overhead fan.

For a second he was tempted to settle back into the bed and drift off, let the phone go to voicemail. But then his gaze caught on the red glow of his alarm clock. The numbers flashing across the screen telling him it was just after two.

In his line of work he was used to waking up at odd hours. To leave on a patrol, bust some illicit activity, or even to infiltrate systems and buildings. In fact, it wasn't unusual to wake up to an informant calling in with a tip or two.

Which is the exact reason, despite his longing, Roy forced himself to disentangle his phone from its charger and blindly accept the call before it timed out.

"What?" He demanded, his voice gravelly and a scowl firmly in place.

"Ro-Red Arrow? Can you...can you c-come get me?"

Dick Grayson.

Roy would know that voice anywhere.

He just wasn't expecting to hear it at two in the morning-and through his regular cellphone instead of a league sanctioned communicator. Immediately he pushed himself off the bed.

Dick was obviously his alter ego at the moment if he was calling Roy 'Red Arrow'. And it was clear something was seriously wrong, otherwise his voice would be steady and Roy would be grousing about being called 'Speedy'. The name Dick and Wally had yet to give up when they were in the mood for teasing.

"I'm coming," he promised as he pulled on a pair of jeans, followed by a shirt. "Just tell me where you are."

If Dick was all the way in Gotham (like he suspected) Roy would call Wally and have him speed over. Running, he'd be faster than Roy even if he used the zeta system. He'd actually rather get in contact with Bruce, but he was well aware Batman was currently off world, which must be why Robin was reaching out to Roy to begin with.

"You know the...the restaurant we went to after we busted those guys...with the machetes? The green and orange one?"

Roy frowned. Dick was talking about a place ten minutes away. In his city. Way outside of his Gotham patrol routes.

"I know the place."

"Y-yeah, well I'm a couple alleys over."

He was already in the car by the time Dick finished, his heart skipping a beat when the sound of gravel shifting and a small gasp rang through their connection. He started to drive.

"Okay." His tone clipped and forced, Roy hoped Dick couldn't find any trace of the heavy anxiety he felt growing inside. "Are you safe there."

"I think so."

Good. When Robin thought something he was right more often than not.

"Alright, I'm on my way." He paused. "You want to tell me what happened?"

"...nothing."

Roy ran a red light, relief coursing through him at the lack of traffic he found. Even with a couple car horns blaring after him, the city was calmer than most nights. He could cruise along relatively untouched.

"You wouldn't be calling me over nothing, Dick." Roy increased the pressure he put on the gas pedal. "Are you hurt?"

"...maybe. A little. Can you just hurry?"

Roy tried to take comfort in the fact that his voice was steadier than before, but the elusiveness of Dick's answers was starting to grate on his nerves.

"I'm a couple minutes away. I'll be there soon."

Which was true. Taking sharp corners and essentially ignoring all the speed limits did wonders on your arrival time. The ten minute drive was rapidly cutting down in length.

"'kay."

Roy passed a familiar bakery.

"When you say 'a little' hurt, what do you mean by that?"

"It's really nothing. I'm just banged up a bit."

Roy frowned. When Dick said 'banged up' it could mean he had a couple road rashes and some light bruising. More often, it meant he had a couple deep cuts or some cracked ribs.

Either way, he doubted he would get any more information over the phone.

That didn't mean he wouldn't try. "Are you losing any blood?"

A pause stretched over the line.

"Dick? Dick, answer me."

"Not a lot."

"Okay, okay that's good."

Roy would figure out if it was true or not when he got to Dick's location.

"Just hurry," Dick whispered. "Please."

And hurry he did.

The next couple of minutes were filled with angry tires rolling against asphalt and narrow misses with some pedestrians. But in the end Dick managed to send over enough directions to get Roy to his location, and Roy managed to slide into the gap between two described buildings with an impressive skidding stop.

His gaze flicked across the shadows, for a terrifying moment finding nothing but trash and fading graffiti, before a flash of color caught his eye. Roy immediately slid out of the car, the door hanging open behind him, and hurried over to peer around a dumpster. He was awarded with the piercing sight of a small bundle of Boy Wonder curled up against the corner's grime.

"Dick," Roy sighed, crouching down to eye level with the teen.

"I'm suited up, Roy. I think you mean Robin."

Roy ignored him in favor of glancing around the area, his attention caught on a shattered pile he recognized to previously make up Robin's communicator. That explained the cell phone.

Roy turned away, back to Dick, or Robin as he insisted.

"Now, what happened." It wasn't a question.

Robin frowned, his face tightening along the lines of his mask. Carefully, with a shaky hand, he pulled his cape out from where it was tucked around him.

Roy sucked in a breath.

Mud stained his front in the shape of footprints and he held himself gingerly. Rivulets of blood oozed away from slashes across his legs, and one splotch of crimson soaked the front of his uniform at an alarming size. The sour aroma of the overflowing dumpster couldn't drown out the metallic scent hanging in the air.

Not the worst Roy had seen him. But nowhere near the best.

"It was an accident," Robin explained miserably. "And, um..."

He shuffled his feet closer for Roy to inspect. He was missing his boots and a pair of specially enforced cuffs linked his legs together.

"I would've taken it off, but I lost my belt."

_That _grabbed his attention. Sure enough when he glanced at the younger's midsection the golden feature was missing. As far as Roy knew, very few people had the ability to remove that belt.

He decided to extract the full story later. For now, he was getting the bird away from this place.

He picked up the remains of Robin's communicator and stuffed them into his pocket. He grabbed Robin's cell phone too. "Alright, can you stand?"

"Y-yeah."

Robin, the gymnast he was, managed to rise to his feet even with the cuffs trying his balance. Then, he stopped, meeting Roy's knowing gaze and huffing.

"I've got you," Roy said as he scooped the teen up and carried him towards the awaiting car, knowing if he didn't the stubborn kid would just try to make his way over on his hands.

Roy could tell Robin was holding back a groan behind his teeth, and beads of sweat slid across his skin. He quickened his pace, forcing open the passenger door and depositing Robin in the seat.

Robin's breath hitched.

He glanced at the bird's front again, and the blood that smeared across his uniform. For the first time he realized Robin's wrist computer and gloves were missing.

"How bad is it? Really."

Robin followed Roy's gaze to the blood and shrugged. "Not bad. I can last."

Roy hesitated before reaching over the passenger seat to the back, grabbing a throw blanket off the floor. He swiped at the dust clinging to the fabric and then reached for Robin's seat belt.

The teen pushed his hand back, mumbling, "I can do it."

The archer waited till he was done, then laid the blanket over his uniform, tucking it behind his shoulders to hide the outfit.

"Alright, take your mask off. I don't need Batman on my a-hunting me down because I let your cover get blown. We've broken enough security rules tonight."

Robin grinned weakly. "They're more like guidelines anyway."

Roy, privately, agreed.

"Brat."

He rummaged through the cup holders before coming up with a bottle of clear liquid. Robin left it in his car before, and Roy was grateful for that now. Without the mixture the glue used to keep masks secure would be a struggle and a half to get off.

"Here," he handed it to the teen, and stepped back to close the door.

As he walked back to the driver's side his feet, clad in the first shoes he had dug out near the door, sloshed through a puddle of water that had collected in a dip of the pavement. Tonight was going _great_.

"Took you long enough," Dick muttered, free of his mask, when Roy slipped inside the car and clicked his seat belt into place in one fluid movement.

Roy ignored him, again. "Do you think you can make it to my apartment?"

Dick rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Mom."

Not one to linger, Roy put the car into reverse and backed out of the alley, steering the car through a couple streets before they were back into the heavier lanes.

A couple minutes of driving passed, and the entire time Dick winced with every turn. Roy watched him out of the corner of his eye, frowning when he noticed bruising forming across his jaw and around his temple.

"Hey, use the blanket to stop that blood a little, okay?" Roy passed the familiar bakery. "But don't let it touch any open cuts, use your uniform as a buffer."

"'kay."

Roy glanced over at the slightly slurred assurance. He almost regretted not working to patch Dick up back at the alley, but he knew the first aid kit in the trunk wouldn't work nearly as well as the stuff he had waiting at the apartment.

A look over confirmed Robin was starting to doze off. The blanket slipped down on one shoulder as his head rolled to rest against the other.

"Hey, don't go to sleep yet." Roy eyed the bruising that practically screamed 'I could be a concussion'. "Dick."

"Mmm?"

Roy turned a corner, cutting off another car absentmindedly.

"Why didn't you call Alfred?"

"You were closer."

A fair point.

But Roy suddenly felt a wave of forbidding sweep over him.

"Wait, does he know you're okay?"

"..."

"Dick?"

Glancing over, Roy realized he had completely nodded off. His head shuffled along with the jostling of the car.

Roy decided a losing battle was a losing battle. He'd wake the kid up when they got back to his place.

For now, he dialed Alfred. Hopefully, he wasn't passively aggressively blamed for any of this.

* * *

_**Dick (Or Robin?)'s POV **_

_Robin hopped from one rooftop to another, the wind sliding through his hair in a rough caress. The rush swept away any sneaking tendrils of sleep so he jumped across a couple more rooftops before finally coming to a stop. His breathing was heavier but a wide grin stretched across his face in consolation._

_He tapped at his wrist computer, checking the time. It was nearly midnight...almost time to come back in. With Batman off world Alfred had decided Dick would come home no later than one, even if it was a Friday night._

_Dick thought this was completely unfair. But what was he going to do? Argue with Alfred? Nope._

_He sighed, turning his wrist computer back to its neutral position and preparing to go for one more loop around a couple nearby blocks. Maybe he'd come across a mugging. Those were a dime a dozen around these parts._

_His hand was just reaching to pull out his grappling gun-_

_When a shrill scream split through the din of distant traffic and conversation._

_Well. Duty calls._

_Robin shot the gun, using the rope to swing across to a roof out of reach before reeling the device back together. All the while the scream (female) echoed through the street before abruptly cutting off with a short muffled commotion._

_He hoped she was just gagged or frightened. In his experience an unconscious victim could be harder to rescue than one prepared to race to safety._

_Robin clicked on his coms as he ran. "I'm engaging!"_

_Alfred's voice crackled to life in response. "Do be careful Master Dick."_

_"You got it Agent A!"_

_With that he finally skidded to a stop, right above an alley where he could clearly see a young woman lying prone across the pavement. Her coat, light gray, was smeared with grime and abandoned a few feat away. One man hovered over her, while another dark figure stood in the shadows. Light from a dying streetlamp washed the space around his hand in a metallic gleam. A gun._

_Robin was just about to drop down and kick the guys to the curb when his attention was forcefully dragged back to look at the street. A group of teenagers was walking by, probably a couple years older than him._

_One glanced over, and before Robin could duck into the shadows the girl's face went slack with surprise. She slapped the arm of the boy beside her and pointed in his direction._

_"Oh my God, it's Robin!"_

_Unfortunately, her voice carried._

_The two men in the alley spooked and began scanning the area frantically, both quickly turning up and noticing him even as he dropped down for the confrontation._

_The man near the woman (now confirmed unconscious) ripped his hands along his waistline, extracting a gun of his own from his clothing, fumbling with the safety as his partner opened fire._

_The shots mostly went wide, uncomfortably close to leaving the alley and possibly hitting the now panicked group of teens. But even as Robin skidded in the opposite direction one or two shots rocketed right at him. Something skimmed his chest but his suit rendered it mostly harmless. Maybe a light bruise at the most?_

_Robin leapt forward, ducking under the man's overextended punch and striking him in the nose with the heel of his palm._

_Crunch._

_While the gun clattered to the ground harmlessly and the man staggered back, hands flying up to cradle his face with a hitching gasp, Robin swept his legs out from underneath him._

_Well. He was done. Rolling around in the grease and muck in agony._

_Robin turned away, focusing on the second man, saw his gun, and felt his stomach drop._

_Distantly he registered the teens running away, their screams (from fear or excitement? A difficult question in Gotham) fading._

_'Thanks' he thought after them in a sudden sour bout._

_Had he been given one more moment before the fight he would've extracted two bird-a-rangs from his belt. Those would have taken out both criminals at the same time with nothing more than two flicking hands._

_Now he was stuck._

_Because the gun wasn't pointed at him, as he would hope._

_It was shoved into the woman's mouth._

* * *

_**Still Dick(Robin-whichever)'s POV (Yippee!)**_

_What happened next went exactly as one would expect._

_The man, his hand shaking and his weapon grinding against the victim's lipstick stained teeth, smiled widely. He stepped behind the woman, dragging her to cover him in a human shield. With his jaw shaking what he said next was almost garbled and lost in translation. "B-back. Back it up right now! I'll shoot her, I will!"_

_Robin stepped back once, deliberately slow._

_"N-now hands up!"_

_He hesitated. If he could grab a bird-a-rang and throw it-_

_But knocking the gun away wasn't an option. It wasn't loosely wrapped in an unassuming grasp, it was barrel deep inside a citizen's face and currently armed to shoot._

_Even if Robin managed to knock the assailant out there was no guaranteeing his finger wouldn't tug back the trigger on reflex._

_Robin raised his hands to hover nonthreatening near his head._

_"Okay, now you...you back up again," the man continued. Robin inched back once more._

_From behind him he could hear Baddie #1 shuffling to his feet. A couple groans from his direction before the distinct sound of dragging footsteps came around Robin's left._

_"-cking brat broke my damn nose."_

_His voice was stuffy and undeniably pissed, and i__f Robin wasn't in the situation he was in he might've felt some pride-as it was, the ghost of a smirk slid across the bottom half of his face. __He was rewarded with a near growl as the man joined his friend by the woman. His gun back in his hand, now pointed firmly in Robin's direction._

Yay.

_A tense moment passed as the Boy Wonder scanned the circumstances for his next move and the men shared a baffled look. Clearly, no one had any idea how this was going to pan out quite yet._

_"Make 'im lose the belt," Baddie #1 suggested, pinning Robin with a scalding gaze._

_His partner nodded, pointing at Robin with his chin. "You heard him, kid. Lose it."_

_Robin felt his heartbeat spike._

_His belt was his belt. Everything he needed to act as the best Robin he could be was in there. Everything he needed to get out his current situation was in there. It was his _belt_. _

_But if he didn't drop it...that women..._

_Robin glanced at her. She had to be in her twenties. With curly brown hair, soft skin, and higher brand clothing. Definitely someone with some money, probably with people that cared about her. As far as he could guess, she was in the smaller portion of Gotham who had a life to live._

_Robin unclasped his belt._

_His fingers ghosted along the compartment with his bird-a-rangs, a weight dropping in his middle at the some time he let the belt slide to the ground._

_"There we go," the man let out a short wavering chuckle as he adjusted his hold on the woman. "Good, good. Now, on your knees."_

_Robin sank to the ground._

_Baddie #1 mumbled something under his breath that Robin couldn't hear, but his partner nodded in agreement._

_"Alright, you just stay where you are. Any movement at all and I'll blow her head off."_

_Robin's thoughts raced a mile per minute. If he could get close enough to try and pull the gun out of her mouth-_

_But no, the struggle might set it off._

_While Robin worried his lip Baddie #1 made his way over to where he was kneeling. One hand still cradled his leaking nose, the other aimed the gun to point directly at the superhero's head._

_Robin glanced over at the women again, noticing her eyelids were starting to flutter and her breath was uneven and unsettled._

_He was just thinking, maybe if she was conscious and could get the gun away-_

_Something heavy and cold came down at his temple._

_A fluttering wave of dark slipped over his eyesight, sending his mind tumbling down deep into the dark._

* * *

**Dick's POV**

"Dick, it's time to get up."

What? No. It most certainly was not. Dick was comfortable, thank you very much.

"Dick, c'mon." This time something shook him distinctly around the shoulder area and Dick almost allowed his eyes to open.

But why? He was relatively warm and his eyelids were so heavy. Sure, his body was feeling pretty achy, but Dick was used to sleeping on a couple pinpoints of pain.

Something patted the side of his face gently and he mumbled in response, allowing his face to scrunch up as he tried to pull his limbs in closer to protect his torso and face.

Only for his legs to meet resistance.

Resistance meant rope or chain or anything else that tied him in place. Immobile. Vulnerable. A target.

Immediately his eyes snapped open.

* * *

**_Dick's POC_**

_"-shouldn't have taken the brat. You know how the Bat is when-"_

_"Shut up. You know how much money we can get if we play this right?"_

_Dick withheld a groan, attempting to open his eyes only to squeeze them close tighter when a crumpling pain engulfed his head._

_"That's if we don't end up in a body cast!"_

_With every word hollered Robin rode out another aching wave that, coupled with a pungent metallic aroma, left him wincing with nausea._

_He tried to reach up and rub the headache away-only to find his arm refused to comply. __Where he should have met a slight ache and full mobility he instead found his hand digging into something tight and restrictive._

_Rope._

_His alarm bells started blaring._

_Dick forced his eyes open, squinting into a sudden onslaught of light and stifling another groan-but it was only when his sight adjusted and he managed to get a look around that it finally clicked how much trouble he was in._

_The light blinding his vision was streaming down from a line of bulbs, most with shattered glass, all hovering from the middle of the ceiling and leaving the rest of the space in creeping darkness. And there was a lot of that space. And the creeping darkness._

_Where he sat, bound to a wooden chair, straight concrete spread out to cover the floor of what he quickly recognized as one of Gotham's countless warehouses. Tattered heavy-duty tarps hung from barred windows and steel tables littered the area. The remnants of old work hung around in random boxes and scraps._

_But what really caught his attention waited straight ahead. Baddie #1 and his friend stood, currently engaged in the argument that forced him to abrupt consciousness._

_"We'll be fine, I've got a cousin in the real deals. I called him up as soon as we nabbed the brat. He'll stop by with a couple of his guys."_

_"When?"_

_Baddie #1 shook his head. "Does it look like I know, man? Any minute now."_

_Dick, or rather Robin, as the remnants of his uniform suggested, swallowed thickly. A quick mental inventory told him he was missing his belt (as expected), his boots, his gloves, and consequently, his wrist computer._

_Yikes._

_Robin carefully tried his arms against their binds again, keeping a cautious eye on the two men as they fretted over their kidnapping. The rope itself was thick enough to hold against pure strength, but slim enough to tie around his wrists. And not just loosely double knotted, the rope was tied intricately in a way that suggested not a professional, but someone with experience._

_He wiggled his sock-clad feat, the two appendages knocking against the wooden chair legs and cutting into another bind._

_He almost sighed, but suffering under a continued headache he knew it could easily turn into a carrying sound, which would garner the attention of-_

_"Oh, well look who's awake."_

_So then, it didn't matter._

_Robin glared under his mask as the two men approached where he sat._

* * *

**Roy's POV**

When Dick's eyes flew open, revealing a murky gaze and a desperate gleam, Roy was ready for the fist that plunged in the direction of his nose-he easily grabbed the wrist and guided the flailing appendage away from his face. He was _not _prepared for Dick to dive out of the passenger seat and drop low to the sidewalk, somehow managing to use both cuffed feet to swipe Roy's legs out from under him.

Cursing, Roy managed to stagger sideways and gain back his balance. "Dick, it's me!"

The teenager paused from where he crouched, poised to tilt forward onto his hands.

"Roy?" he mumbled questioningly. Blood leaked through his uniform and dripped to the concrete below.

"Yeah." Roy snagged the car blanket from where it tangled in the seat belt during Dick's bid for freedom. "C'mon bud."

He reached forward and dragged Dick to his feat, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and tucking it around his uniform hastily. He glanced at the windows of the neighboring building. Most were dark, and the others had drawn curtains. No security cameras that he could see, but he'd double check later.

For now, Roy let Dick awkwardly shuffle up to the stairs, before he wordlessly picked him up. Dick scowled, but didn't argue, and Roy took the opportunity to hustle them up to his apartment before that changed.

"So," Roy said when he finally dumped Dick on his couch. He grabbed the first aid kit where it sat open on the kitchen counter. "You want to explain _this_ now?"

"Not really?"

Roy raised an eyebrow.

Dick sighed and mumbled a quick barebone explanation about fumbling a crime intervention and getting kidnapped.

Roy stared. "_You_ got kidnapped. By two random guys off the street."

"..."

"Are you pouting?"

"No!"

Roy shook his head and washed his hands at the kitchen sink, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it before sitting on the coffee table in front of Dick. "Shirt."

Dick wordlessly pulled the garment off along with his cape, revealing an array of lurid bruises blooming across his chest and a deeper gash on his side that had stopped bleeding for the most part but still oozed bright crimson. Roy almost winced at the sight, but knowing Dick, it wouldn't be appreciated. He let out a low whistle instead.

"You certainly had fun tonight."

Dick cracked a small grin, "You should see the other guys."

Roy tried to hide the way his gaze sharpened. He wished he could see them too, let his bow and quiver have a nice long conversation with everyone involved. But Dick was sitting in front of him, hurt, twisting his cape in his hands, so he just grinned back instead.

"Okay, now let's wash that," Roy picked up the washcloth and Dick winced in preparation, but didn't stop him as he ran the cloth gently around and lightly over the wound, the excess water mingled with blood and ran down his side until Roy mopped it up with a towel.

"Alright," Roy decided after a minute, setting the washcloth down and rifling through the first aid kit until he came up with a container of ointment. "Antiseptic time."

Dick groaned, letting his head thud carefully against the back of the couch. "_Noooo_."

He pouted, and Roy mentally sighed.

This was going to be an _adventure_.

* * *

_**Robin POV. Again.**_

_Robin choked down a mouthful of blood, using his tongue to probe at the ragged flesh of his cheek. His lip wasn't fairing much better, he could feel a split on the left side, hopefully not big enough to need stitches. _

_At least the point where the gun had come down on his head wasn't bleeding-well, not a lot. Mostly, it was just throbbing, the pressure squeezing his head in a relentless grip. Muddling his thoughts._

_Unfortunately__, that wasn't his biggest problem. _

_He scowled as one of the new arrivals planted his foot on his chest, applying pressure until Robin and his chair went tipping backwards, crashing to the concrete. He smacked his head again and held back a groan as nausea welled up and left him gasping. _

_The group of men chortled where the surrounded him, Baddie #1 and Baddie #2 standing next to a man who had pulled Baddie #1 into a half hug as soon as he had walked through the door. A cousin in the 'Big Leagues', huh?_

_The closest man stepped forward and kicked at his chest, laughing as he flinched. His foot collided a few more times before finally the cousin stepped forward. _

_"Alright, that's enough fun for now." Reluctantly, the kicker backed off, sending him a nasty glare as he did so. But Robin didn't care, because even though the backrest of the seat was cutting into the circulation of his arms, he could feel the rope in his grip, the knot finally starting to give._

_"Here, someone hold down his legs, we're gonna get these-" the cousin held up a pair of cuffs, enforced and shaped differently than the ones that clasp around hands. "-on him." _

_"What?" Baddie #1 asked. "What's wrong with the rope?" _

_The group snorted and the cousin shook his head. "You really want to trust _rope _to hold Boy Wonder?" _

_Baddie #1 frowned._

_Two of the men stepped forward from the group of half dozen. Each grabbed one of his legs and Robin grimaced. _

_"I don't know guys," he said, trying not to quail away from the feeling of their fingers wrapped around his calves. Restraints. He hates restraints, especially when people were physically involved. "This kinda seems like overkill."_

_Someone slapped him for his efforts and his head spun angrily in response. _

_"Shut it," the kicker hissed. _

_The weight of himself and the chair were distracting to say the least, and he couldn't quite see what they were doing but he felt someone unwrap the rope restraining his legs, and suddenly beside the four hands holding him down his lower body was completely free. _

_"Here," the cousin said. "Move out of the-"_

_But before he could attach the cuffs, Robin made his move. _

_He slipped his hands free, wrenching them out from under the chair and knowing that in doing so his arms would be complaining for days. Then, in a single fluent movement, he swung up like he was completing a sit-up, elbowing the kicker in the face, freeing the leg he held. He used it to knee the other guy and squirm his way free._

_Around him the Baddies were reaching for the guns, some lunging towards him. _

_He slid back, jumping to his feet while his ribs ached and his head pounded and pretty much everything hurt in some way._

_But now he had six armed men standing between him and the only exit._

_They realized it a second later. Two chuckled. _

_"What you gonna do now, pretty birdie?" The cousin asked through a razor sharp grin. _

_Robin didn't even have boots. _

* * *

**AN: Aaaand that's a cut. There's gonna be a part two to this that fills in the gaps...but I hit some writing block with this while working on it, and that's kinda why I went back and forth with telling different parts of the story at different points. Sorry if it got confusing, but it was just easier to get everything written up while chopped up and messed up. **

**So, thanks for sticking with me? If you're reading this Imma assume you did? **

**Anyway, I know this chapter kinda felt...dull? But I'd love to hear some feedback in the comments if y'all are willing? **


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